


Don't Hate Me On Mondays

by Idzzdi



Series: Your Eyes, For Me [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blind Character, Blindness, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Sequel, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3388814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idzzdi/pseuds/Idzzdi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It snowed,” Louis says, surprised and delighted, leaning out of the window a little further.<br/>“You couldn't possibly smell that!” Harry protest, sitting up a little straighter, the sheets still pulled up to his chin. “Snow doesn't have a-”<br/>He stops when Louis turns around, holding up his fingers, which are dripping wet and behind him Harry can see little dents in the snow of the windowsill where Louis fingers had dug into it.</p><p>or: louis is still blind and ignoring it and harry loves him more than ever. and YES i had to sneak a proposal in there, thank you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Hate Me On Mondays

**Author's Note:**

> THE SEQUEL YEAAH!
> 
> Now, I had a million requests for this, so this better get a million clicks at least. :)
> 
> I don't know how this happened, as always it's a word vomit kind of thing that happened within five hours or so, so I hope it's any good.
> 
> Anyway, like last time I still don't know anything about real blindness, so sorry SORRY if I got anything wrong. :/

Louis doesn't like Mondays. In fact Louis absolutely loathes Mondays with a great passion.

It doesn't take Harry long to find out about it. They're not even dating for a week when Louis complains about it for the first time, first over text and then later that night on the phone, but Harry puts it off as Louis just being in a bit of a bad mood. Turns out that _bit of a bad mood_ is Louis' general Monday mood and returns once a week like clockwork.

It's nothing Harry can't deal with though, Louis comes with a lot of quirks and requests a lot of special treatment. On top of that he's also blind, but he has got that under control okay. A little too okay for Harry's liking, and also Zayn's, because Louis doesn't exactly consider himself disabled, just everybody else advanced and will under absolutely no circumstances walk with a cane. As a result his shins and elbows are greatly bruised, less so his ego.

“I can walk just fine, thank you very much,” he grumbles to Harry as he leaves Harry's flat for his Monday morning class, after having stayed over for the night. Harry takes Louis' cane and pushes it gently into Louis' open palm, curling his fingers around it.

“Don't need that,” he grumbles, tossing it back into the flat, where it clatters onto the ground.

“Yes, you do,” Harry protests, bending down to pick the cane back up. “Newsflash, you're _blind_. Take the stupid cane or else!”

“Or else what?” Louis drawls, swaying forward a bit, curling his hand against Harry's stomach.

“Lou _is_ ,” Harry simply says, sighing, as he curl his fingers around Louis' wrist. They've had this argument twice already in just this past week and really, it's a never ending vicious circle. “Please, if wanna walk by yourself, _please_ take the cane. I don't want you do get run over by a car.”

Louis doesn't take the cane, of course and Harry suffers a total of three minor heart attacks before Louis texts him that he got to class safely.

So that's their Monday routine for most part of the year and it doesn't change much even after Harry and Louis move in together, a small run down and completely over-priced flat, but it's close to the campus and in a tiny side road with next to no cars going by, limiting the chances for Louis to get run over. It wasn't Louis' first choice of flat; he wanted to old penthouse flat they were looking at, the upper story of an unused old fire station. It was huge and had a sliding pole which were all the reasons why Louis wanted it and Harry flat out refused.

So now they're in their shared flat and while that thought always makes Harry's heart ache a little with how much he loves Louis, it's also Monday morning and Harry knows he's in for a day of complaining Louis. It's late January and just past eight. Harry and Louis both have lectures at ten, so they're going to have to get up sometime sooner or later, but Harry is comfortable and warm in their bed, so he pulls Louis closer to snuggle him against his chest. The movement is enough to stir Louis and let him grumble sleepy against Harry's chest.

“G'morning,” Harry mumbles, pressing his mouth into Louis' hair. Louis only whines in response, which isn't all that bad for a Monday. He presses his fingers against Harry's naked chest as he dozes off again. Harry allows it for a couple of minutes, before he nudges Louis awake again.

“C'mon babe,” he mutters, being real gentle and careful because it is Monday and not even half 8 yet after all. “We need to get up. _Now_ ,” he adds as an afterthought when Louis doesn't even shift. His hands slowly find Louis' hips and the boy starts squirming before Harry even gets to tickle him.

“Stop it,” he grumbles, sounding beyond annoyed already. He tries pushing Harry's hands away and shifts off of Harry's body rolling away from him and onto the floor. Only Louis didn't see how far on the side of the bed they were already and groans loudly when he lands on the ground.

“Fucking hell,” he curses, kicking out harshly against the bed, which Harry is sure hurt Louis' toes a whole lot more then the bed.

Harry suppresses a laugh, because he knows Louis won't appreciate it, but on a certain level it's just amusing how angry Louis gets simply because the weekend is over and he has to get up early to get to his classes. It doesn't even matter that he actually _likes_ his classes.

“Oh stop that stupid half smile, it makes your dimples pop,” Louis grumbles as he pushes himself off the ground. Harry swears he didn't make a single sound, there is no way in hell Louis knows about the grin on his face. But the must be, apparently, because Louis is giving him one last unimpressed look before he shuffles off towards the window. It's small and creaky, like the rest of their flat, but it's pretty well isolated. Or it would be, at least, if Louis didn't pull it wide open first thing in the mornings. Harry hides under the sheets to escape the cold when Louis pulls it open today, leaning out to take in a deep breath of air.

“It snowed,” Louis says, surprised and delighted, leaning out of the window a little further.

“You couldn't possibly smell that!” Harry protest, sitting up a little straighter, the sheets still pulled up to his chin. “Snow doesn't have a-”

He stops when Louis turns around, holding up his fingers, which are dripping wet and behind him Harry can see little dents in the snow of the windowsill where Louis fingers had dug into it. Louis is grinning like a maniac, stumbling over toward the bed, hitting his knee on the edge and the tumbling on top of Harry, pressing his cold fingertips into Harry's face.

“Snooow, Hazza,” me mumbles, delighted and cute. A complete one-eighty.

“Okay, love,” Harry laughs, pushing Louis hands off his naked chest before he gets a frost bite. “Aren't you lucky you don't have to go class now, huh? But let me get up anyway, _some people_ need to go to their classes.” He pushes Louis off his lap, slips out from underneath the sheets and walks over towards the window to close it.

“What do you mean?” Louis asks, scrunching up his nose. Harry gives him a long unimpressed look, which he knows Louis will be able to detect in the lingering silence.

“What?” Louis prompts again, stumbling up from the bed aimlessly.

“You're not going out there. In the snow. Where it's icy and slippery and oh, did I mention that you're _blind_?”

“Seriously, stop reducing me to my disability!” Louis growls and they're back to square one, Monday morning mood.

“That's not what I'm doing, babe. I'm just looking out for you,” Harry tries to reason as he pulls a shirt over his head. In the beginning of their relationship he had been very careful with conversation like these turning into fights and Louis being pissed about needing a little bit of extra help with his blindness. Now however, Harry isn't taking any of his shit. Secretly he knows that's what Louis wants and needs, even if he can't see so himself sometimes.

“Just looking out for you,” Louis mutters, imitating Harry's voice. “Gimme a break, okay? Let's just get ready and go to class.”

“You literally _never_ want to go to class on Mondays.”

“Don't be difficult about this!” Louis whines, pulling on some random trousers and feeling along the seams of one of the shirts lying around on the floor to determine whether it's remotely his size.

“Don't be-” Harry huffs, turning around to face Louis angrily. “ _I_ am not the one being difficult about this! You're being completely unreasonable right now and if you take half a second of your precious time to stand back and properly look at it, you would see that too.”

“Except I can't see anything, huh,” Louis grumbles more to himself than to Harry, running his hands through his hair.

“Don't _be_ like that,” Harry pleads, gathering his books and packing his bag for his classes and some errands later on.

“Well, don't be like my mom, seriously. To imagine that she let me learn how to ride a bike as a kid and you won't even let me go to class.”

“You weren't blind as a kid, honey.”

“Not the point, _darling_ ,” Louis says back, saccharine sweet. He's scowling still, grabbing his own bag to pack it for his classes with all the wrong books. Harry just sighs and walks over to Louis, taking the bag from his hands.

“Harry, no-” Louis starts to protest, but Harry shuts him up with a quick peck on the lips. The surprised sound Louis makes and the way his cheeks get faintly pink are definitely worth it.

“At least take the right books, yeah?”, Harry says lowly, unpacking the books from Louis  
' bag again. He throws in a few sheets of paper along with Louis' laptop and the correct books for Louis' two classes today.

“Thanks,” Louis mumbles back when Harry zips up the bag and reaches out to Louis' hand to curl his fingers around the straps of the bag.

“Put the kettle on then, love, I'll be there in a bit,” Harry says, giving Louis a light shove in the direction of their bedroom door. Louis stumbles off and Harry can hear him shuffle down the hallway and into the kitchen as he finishes getting dressed. He grabs his own bag and follows Louis into the kitchen where he sets down his bag and pulls out a pan and some bacon to fix for their breakfast.

They've got a pretty good breakfast routine down where Louis makes there tea, without burning himself all the often even though he's sleepy in the mornings and Harry didn't want him around boiling hot water in the beginning. Soon enough though Harry had found that Louis gets grumpy when he feels like Harry is tending to him too much, so letting Louis be in charge of making tea for them is Louis' part of the deal. (Harry's part of the deal are the cooling packs in the fridge. Louis keeps saying they only take up space they could use for food, but at least twice a month Harry has to press those ice packs onto Louis' burned fingers to keep him from getting second degree burns. Harry doesn't say ' _I told you so'_ and Louis keeps quiet as Harry kisses away stray tears of frustration and so it works.)

Harry is responsible for the food in their breakfast routine. Usually they just have some bacon or eggs on toast, sometimes waffles or muffins when they have loads of time like on the weekends, and sometimes just a bowl of quick cereal when Louis lured Harry into staying in bed until the absolute last second.

“You got your English lecture now, don't you?” Harry asks when they're sat at their breakfast bar together, munching on bacon and toast.

“Hm,” Louis hums, not looking up from where he's letting his fingers run over a page of his book, reading on.

“And seminar with Zayn after?”

“Hm.”

Harry pauses for a moment. He knows he'll get in trouble for asking, but he has to anyway.

“He'll walk you home, won't he?”

Louis looks up and gives him an unimpressed look. He also stopped chewing momentarily, looking a bit weird and Harry would make a comment about it, but not with Louis being this stubborn.

“Seriously, _mom_ ,” Louis sighs, going back to his book, his finger running along the lines again.

“I just don't want you to slip and fall,” Harry says softly, because he really does only mean well.

“Let's not fight over this.”

“It doesn't have to be a fight,” Harry puts in, tentatively reaching out to touch Louis' hand.

“With you it does,” Louis grumbles back and Harry stops his hand mid air to pull it back. He collects their plates and puts them into the dish washer as Louis keeps his head bowed the book.

The air between them is tense, like most Monday mornings, when Harry hasn't quite managed to make Louis forget about the day ahead of them. It's not as bad as it could be though and Louis doesn't complain when Harry walks him all the way to his first class, even though Harry's first lecture is all the way across campus. It's pretty icey on the sidewalks and Louis grips onto Harry's hand tighter than usually, almost slipping once or twice. Harry would make a comment about it if he wasn't so glad Louis let him walk him to class and didn't know that it would set off a whole new argument.

“Zayn and I might go out to grab a quick lunch after class later,” Louis says when they're almost at his lecture hall. It's as much of an peace offering as Harry's going to get, so he takes it.

“Okay,” he says, squeezing Louis' hand in his. “Tell him I said hi.”

“'Course,” Louis agrees, letting Harry place his hand on the railing of the steps leading up into the building. “I'll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, bending down to give Louis a quick peck on his lips. Louis pulls him closer though, deepening the kiss for a short moment.

“I love you, okay?” he mumbles, a little desperate, like he's making sure Harry actually knows that.

“Yeah,” Harry hums again, grinning widely. “You too. Now go, or I'll be late.” And so he sends Louis off before hustling halfway across campus to get to his own lecture on time. He's on a tight schedule today with uni this morning and then a special errand to run later on, before Louis makes it back to the apartment.

He almost slips a couple times on his way to class, but gets there just in time, still thinking about Louis' little ' _I love you, yeah?_ ' as he sits down somewhere in the back of the lecture hall. He probably could have speared himself going to class at all today, because his mind is completely elsewhere. The two hours of class he has to sit through feel much longer than they should and Harry hasn't learned a single thing by the time he slips out of the lecture around noon, hurrying to the next bus stop to catch a bus into town.

His heart is doing silly things by the time he gets off the bus and walks down the street. He tries to calm his breathing, shaking his head to himself, because seriously. He's being stupid and he doesn't understand what it is that has his hands shaking by the time he enters the store.

“Hello, how can I help you sir?” a sleek looking man, dressed in all black asks as Harry steps closer to the counter.

“Yeah, hi, I'm here to pick up an engagement ring,” he says, fiddling with his hands nervously. The man gives him a quick professional look and nods, stepping aside behind the counter pulling out the drawer.

“On what name is the ring, sir?”

“Um, Styles. Harry Styles,” he says, wondering how many more rings there are sitting in that drawer, waiting to get picked up.

“Very well,” then man nods, picking out a little black box from the drawer. “Twenty one karat gold embedded in Sterling silver, size P, engraved as ordered,” he says popping open the little box to present the ring to Harry. It's silly how Harry's hearts stutters a little when he sees the ring. But it's absolutely perfect, _the_ ring for Louis. When he had come into the store a week early to look at the rings he had fallen in love with it immediately, but now that it's Louis' size and engraved with their anniversary date Harry thinks he loves it even more. It's a bit ridiculous.

“Perfect,” Harry nods, swallowing a few times.

“Would you like a carrier bag, sir?”

“Um, yes please,” Harry says, looking down at the run down bag he uses for his uni stuff. He can't just toss the ring in there.

The man takes the little box and puts it into a sleek black carrier bag, too large for the little box. He fills it with white an gray decorating paper, tying the top in the end with a silvery black rope. Well, for the money Harry paid for the ring he suspects he can expect a bit of fancy wrapping.

He has to show his recipe again a sign a few more slips, but several minutes later Harry is stood outside the store, the expensive looking bag in hand, feeling heavy and light at the same time. This is it, one step in the right direction of spending the rest of his life with Louis by his side. It's exactly what he wants an he can't see his future any other way. Unless of course, what if Louis _doesn't_ see it that way? Harry doesn't dare thinking about it.

He clutches the handles of the bag tighter in his hand, picking up his step to catch the bus back to their flat. Waiting on the bus he checks his phone and sees that he has a text from Louis, asking where he is at. For a moment Harry frowns at his phone, biting his lip. It's been almost forty minutes since his lecture, so he should actually be home by now.

' _home, why?_ ' he texts Louis, but doesn't receive an answer until he gets back to their apartment. He's jogging up the last few stairs, cellphone and ring bag still in one hand, the other clutching the keys to their flat. He unlocks the door, stopping mid motion when it opens after only half a twist. Did he forget to lock it when they left earlier? Are they being robbed right now?

Carefully Harry pushes the door open and steps inside, one hand still on the handle as he calls out a tentative “Hello?”. There is no answer and no sound of a burglar being surprised mid act, so Harry closes the door behind him, tosses his key into the bowl by the door and steps into their tiny hallway. He makes his way towards their bedroom to stow away the ring safely, but stops in his tracks when he passes the living room and sees something move from the corner of his eyes.

“Shit” he yelps, bringing a hand up to run through his hair when he sees Louis sitting on their couch, looking unfazed. “Jesus, Lou, you scared the shit out of me.”

Louis just gives him an unimpressed look. “Where were you?”

“Wha- Where was I? At uni. Why didn't you bloody say a thing when I called out? Are you deaf now, too?” Harry rambles with a laugh, his heart starting to finally slow down.

Louis doesn't say anything and just presses the little button on his watch to let it say the time out loud into the quiet room.

“It's past one, Harry,” Louis says with his eyebrows raised high. “It took you over an _hour_ to get home from class?”

“What,” Harry just says, staring back at Louis. “Why are you here anyway?” he questions and it sounds a lot more accusingly than he means for it to be.

“Prof's sick,” Louis says curtly. “Where were you?” he insists again, pushing himself off the couch. He turns to face Harry and crosses his arms in front of his chest defensively.

“I was at uni,” Harry says again, but when Louis' face only darkens he tacks on “And then I had to pick up a few things from down town.”

“Oh really?” Louis says, raising his eyebrows. “Is that what they call it these days?”

“What are you getting at, Louis?” Harry asks, starting to get annoyed. He's still in his shoes and jacket, the bag with the ring in his hand. The last thing he needs right now is a fight.

“Where _were_ you?” Louis asks again, looking more and more frustrated.

“I was getting things, okay? I'm telling you I was running an errand, why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because you texted and said you were home when you weren't. Why can't you be honest about _things_ you're getting, huh?” Louis accuses, moving his hands around angrily as he talks.

And well, that's a bit of a situation now, isn't it? Harry can't just tell Louis, but if he doesn't then Louis will only get angrier. There is absolutely no reason to fight over this.

“It's a surprise, okay?” Harry says. “I got something for you.”

“Oh really?” Louis laughs hollowly.

“Yeah, really.”

“Tell me more about it, then.”

“But that'll ruin the surprise!” Harry defends, feeling his heartbeat pick up nervously, the hand around the carrier bag clenching harder.

“I don't give a flying fuck about it being a surprise, let me see,” Louis insists, taking a vague step towards Harry and holding out his hand. “Let me see,” he repeats slowly.

“You're going to feel like such a tit in a second,” Harry sighs, looking down towards the bag where the decorating paper peeks out a bit.

“I'll take my chances,” Louis says coldly, shoving his hand a bit closer towards Harry.

“If you're sure..” Harry says after a moment, raising the bag up a bit and placing the handles into Louis' open palm. There's no fighting him on this unless Harry is in for a huge fight over literally nothing. And it's not like Harry didn't warn Louis that he didn't really want to see what Harry got.

So now Louis is holding the bag, looking stumped for a moment, like he didn't expect Harry to actually have gotten anything at all, but he schools his features into something impassive and unimpressed quickly. He lets his free hand feel along the edges of the bag and along the top where he tugs the bow open, frowning a bit in confusion.

Harry watches as Louis rustles through the decorating paper, half of it falling to the ground before Louis' fingers reach the little box. He halts for a moment, the crease between his eyebrows getting even deeper. He stops again and looks like he wants to ask, but doesn't and instead just pulls the box out and drops the rest of the bag to the ground.

He feels along the texture of the box and squeezes and pulls a few times before he finds the correct corners, pulling it open. Louis reaches into the box carefully, ghosting his fingers over the shape of the ring carefully before pulling his fingers back quickly.

“Are you-” Louis starts but shuts himself up immediately and bites his lip, averting his eyes. He takes the ring out, feeling along the outside and the inside. Harry smiles when he sees Louis' eyes widen comically, when he feels over the engraving on the inside. He had it made in braille, so Louis could read it and feel it against his skin at all times.

Louis' face is somewhere between shock and mortification and Harry feels like asking ' _Are you feeling like a tit, yet?_ ' but refrains from doing so. It's mostly amusing to see Louis slip on the ring real quick, only to rip it off right away again when he realizes that it fits his ring finger.

Louis gapes at him, thrusting the ring and the box towards Harry with another deep scowl on his face.

“Why would you give that to me?” he growls loudly, pushing past Harry and stomping down the hallway to their bedroom where the slams the door shut. Well, okay then.

Harry just stands and stares for a moment, a little overwhelmed by the entire situation. After a while he takes a deep long breath and puts the ring back into the box, bends down to pick up the bag and the decorating paper that fell out, stuffing it all together into his uni bag, which is still hanging around his shoulders. Out of sight, out of mind. Okay.

He trots back into the hallway then, toeing off his shoes, setting down his bag and taking off his coat. For a second he think about going after Louis, checking up on him to see if he's alright, but Harry thinks he mostly just needs a moment for himself now and Louis probably does so as well.

He takes up camp in the living room, turning on the TV to have something to distract him. He tries not to think about all the things Louis could have meant when he said _'Why would you give that to me?'_ and the constantly reoccurring question of ' _Is it too soon?_ '.

Louis spends the rest of the day locked up their bedroom, doesn't even come out when Harry knocks and offers to fix them something for tea. So Harry lets him be, does some reading for his seminar the next day and mostly just watches a lot to crap daytime TV.

Just as he's done with the washing up for the night and thinks about kipping on the sofa for a bit, he shuffles through the hallway to find that Louis has left their bedroom door ajar, wide enough for Harry to notice. And Harry knows Louis' weird kinds of invitation or peace offering when he sees them and this is one. So he lock up the flat, turns off all the lights and carefully steps into their bedroom. Louis is laying on the the bed, facing away from Harry pretending to be asleep. Harry sighs and strips down, getting into bed next to Louis without saying a word, even though he knows that Louis knows he knows he's not asleep.

 

~

 

Harry tries not to think too much about it. It was rushed anyway, probably. He should give it time, see how it unfolds as time moves on. So that's the plan.

Louis plays along perfectly well, acting like nothing happened at all for the most part. Harry thinks maybe it's a little unnerving just how well Louis ignores it, but that's just one of the many, many things Harry tries not to worry about at the moment.

So life moves on and Louis behaves as normal as he gets, they go out like they normally do, spending too much money on fancy dinners first for Harry's birthday and then Valentine's Day and in early March for their four year anniversary. They have a great time though in between all the everyday life craziness.

In the end of March Louis has some mid term exams and the stress them out particularly hard and Harry feels bad for him, getting exhausted just watching. On a Wednesday Louis has his last exam and Harry decides to treat him to a nice date night later on as a ' _well done, babe_ '-gift.

Louis absolutely lights up like a Christmas tree when Harry tells him to dress nicely because they're going out for the night. They get ready together and Louis asks Harry to pick out some clothes for him. That way, they only end up wearing matching shirts of course and when Harry tells him so, Louis' grin only widens.

“You look a whole lot excited about this,” Harry says when they're both sat in Harry's run down car, driving to the restaurant Harry picked.

“I just love you a whole lot, I guess,” Louis says back, an almost permanent grin on his face. He needs to do this more often, Harry thinks, taking Louis out like this, if it gets him excited and happy like this.

“I love you a whole lot more, love,” Harry says lowly, squeezing Louis' thigh with his left hand.

When they get to the restaurant Louis is still smiling like crazy, jittery and squeezing Harry's hand tight as he follows him and the waitress to their table. It's in a corner and as quiet as it probably gets, just as Harry requested, so Louis can feel more comfortable.

They chat and eat and Louis doesn't stop smiling for the entire night. Harry is just so, so happy he thought of this. He ends up ordering chocolate ice cream and champagne for desert and Louis squeezes his hand tightly from across the table, nudging Harry's feet excitedly with his own.

When their dessert arrives Harry spares half a second to think about the huge bill he'll receive for this and that he probably won't be taking the bus to uni for the entire next week, but the way Louis starts nibbling on small bites of ice cream, makes it totally worth it.

“Is it any good?” Harry asks and carefully takes the spoon from Louis' hand to take his own bite of the dish they're sharing. The chocolate ice cream tastes amazing of course and Harry alternates between eating some himself and feeding spoons of it to Louis who chews and swallows carefully.

“You almost full, babe?” Harry asks when Louis nips on his champagne, letting the liquid swirl around the glass for a bit.

“Yeah,” Louis agrees with a hum, taking another sip of the champagne. “That was really good, thank you.”

“You're welcome, babe. I'm so proud of you for making it through all the exams. I bet you did amazing on all of them,” he says confidently, squeezing Louis' hand once more. “And actually I have another suggestion to make,” he adds then, bathing in the way Louis' entire face lights up again. This would be so good for them.

“Yeah?” Louis encourages, squeezing Harry's hand back.

“I think we should go see your mom this weekend, yeah?” he says excitedly, grinning himself. “You're done with all your exams and I have a couple days off work, so we should do it. You can go see the girls and the twins. Maybe some friends from back home, too!”

As Harry talks, Louis' face falls for half a second and he lowers his eyes before looking back up, with a secure tight smile on his lips.

“Don't you wanna go, Lou?” Harry asks, a little confused. Louis always goes on and on about how he doesn't see his family enough and how he misses them all. “We don't have to go, I guess.”

“No yeah, we should,” Louis says thickly, giving Harry a small smile. He looks tired and exhausted, nothing like the smiley boy he was not ten minutes ago.

“Are you sure?” Harry asks, insecure all the sudden, precarious of Louis' emotional change.

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis nods, the fake smile still on his face. “We should go this weekend.”

Harry just looks at him, confused and feeling unsettled, but nods along anyway. “Okay,” he agrees against better judgment, but lets it rest and thinks about bringing it up later again or maybe the next day, when Louis has had time to think about whether he really wants to go or not.

Harry gets the bill and swallows hard when he sees the price, but pays it nevertheless, keeping in mind how happy the night had made Louis. He is sleepy now, looking a bit sullen and deflated, but lets Harry take his hand and guide him out of the restaurant and across the street to the parking lot where they parked the car. Harry leads him to the passenger side of the car, placing Louis' hand on the handle before walking around the car to get into it himself. When he reaches the other side however, Louis still hasn't made a move to get inside.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks, halting mid motion to open the driver side's door.

“I cocked it all up, didn't I?” Louis asks, voice shaky, turning slowly to face towards Harry.

“What?” Harry asks confusedly, letting out a light laugh. “What are you talking about?”

“I fucked it all up, you and I. I fucked it up, I- Just because I had to see the ring, but I swear, I didn't mean- I was just _so scared_. Every day I'm just scared.. that you're gonna find somebody else. Somebody who isn't blind and needy and such a shit at everything. I mean look at you, you're.. you're _you_ , the most perfect thing I've ever seen. And then there's me. I'm more of a hassle than anything else.

“I never understood why Zayn of all people wanted to be friends with me, but how on earth _you_ , Harry.. how I managed to keep you around for so long.. I don't know.

“And like.. I understand that you don't wanna marry me anymore, I guess. The, the thing with the ring was just the, uh, the last straw I guess and I get it, just- You can't take me out to dinners like tonight all the time and make me think there's gonna be a ring in my champagne when there isn't ever gonna be one, okay?” he sniffs and blinks hard against the tears welling up in his eyes. “It's not fair.”

“Lou,” Harry says quietly, finally getting his brains together and walking around the car to gently wipe away Louis' tears. “What are you talking about?”

“You can't leave me,” Louis sniffs, more tears running down his cheeks. “You can't leave me, because I still love you Mondays. I hate everything on Mondays, but I don't hate you. I love you always and I want you to-” he hiccups, swallowing hard. “I want you to love me too. On Mondays.”

“Lou, baby,” Harry murmurs, pulling Louis close against his chest and wrapping him up in a hug. “Don't be silly. I love you Mondays. And Tuesdays and any other day of the week. I love you always. I don't know where I went wrong making you believe that I wouldn't!”

“'s not you, 's just I-” Louis hiccups again, snuffling closer into Harry's chest. “I'm just scared, I-”

“But don't be, Lou. You're my one and only, yeah? I bought a ring, remember? You're the one who said ' _Why would you give me that thing?_ '.”

“No, I was just-” Louis sobs quietly, sniffing and wiping at his eyes. “I'm sorry. I'm _sorry_ , okay? I was feeling like _such a tit_ after, okay? You were right, of course you were. I just- You shouldn't have showed it to me. You always know what's best for me Harry. Always you.”

“Well, you can be pretty persuasive,” Harry puts in, trying to lighten the mood a tiny bit and nudging Louis' side lightly.

“Yeah, well, sometimes just don't listen to me. You know what's best for me. And I want to rely on you to make smart decision for me and like.. _us_.”

“I want that, too,” Harry says, pulling Louis even tighter into his chest. They stay like that for a moment, breathing each other in, in the middle of an empty and dark parking lot.

“Do you still have the ring?” Louis asks after a long silence, his face mushed against Harry's chest, his question barely audible.

“Of course,” Harry says right way, feeling Louis going pliant against his body in relief. “What, did you think I'd get rid of it?”

Louis just shrugs into Harry's embrace, staying quiet again for a long while.

“Let's get you home, hm?” Harry says eventually, petting the back of Louis' head softly. “It's been a long day.” Louis hums and nods against Harry's chest, lets Harry pull him back a bit and press a kiss to his forehead. Harry gets him into the car and buckles him up, jogging around the front to get in on the driver's side himself.

They ride in silence for most of the way, not uncomfortable, but a bit tense with Louis shifting around nervously in his seat.

“I'm sorry,” he says eventually, quiet but firm. “I'm really, really sorry for all.. this.”

“Hey,” Harry says softly, reaching out of intertwine one of his hands with Louis'. “If I made you believe that you had any reason to doubt my loyalty to you, then the blame is on me.”

Louis gives him a small smile like he doesn't agree, but likes hearing it anyway. And that is good enough for now.

“But also, like.. You know, needing so much help and always being a shit about it on top of everything. I'm sorry for that too,” Louis adds, bowing his head a little.

“That's a part of who you are,” Harry says with a frown on his face. “It's part of what I love about you, I'm not going to forgive you for that.”

“I'm sorry about it anyway.”

“And I love it about you anyway.”

 

~

 

Harry is sure now. Absolutely sure. He's going to do it and he's going to to do it soon. Sooner rather than later. Something like that.

He just has to figure something out.

But on the weekend they're going up to Louis' mom and the kids and then the weekend after is the house party Niall has been talking about since Christmas and then Harry has his exams and then Louis his and then it's break again already and somehow there just isn't any time it feels like. And Harry also still has to come up with the perfect idea. It just seems like dinner wouldn't be good enough now, but everything else requires a shit load of planning and while all the boys already volunteered to help Harry out, he still needs to come up with the initial idea to know what he might even need help with. It's frustrating, really.

Only two weeks later the question has gotten close enough to him, to have him dream about proposing to Louis in the strangest ways including at the zoo, under water and over breakfast. When he wakes up from a particularly vivid dream on a Tuesday morning he thinks _fuck it._ Louis looks so good sleeping peacefully next to him, curled in on himself, his hair soft and fluffy the way Harry loves it the most.

_Fuck it!_

Harry can certainly skip his first lecture and he's sure Louis can too. Maybe even the ones after that.

So he carefully untangles himself from Louis' sleeping body and rushes to the kitchen as quietly as he can, putting on the kettle and frying up some quick bacon and pancakes. He would love to make muffins too, because those are Louis' favorites, but he'd have to run to the store to get some of the ingredients and he doesn't want to risk Louis waking up in the meantime. He suddenly feels very determined to this _right now_.

So he makes pancakes with syrup and bacon, cuts up some fresh fruit and fixes tea for both of them before loading it all onto a tray they rarely ever use and carries it carefully down the hallway and into their bedroom.

Louis is laying in the exact same position he was in when Harry left, so Harry thinks he's made it just in time and quiet enough. Carefully he sets down the tray beside the bed and rummages through his sock drawer until he finds the box with the ring sitting at the very bottom of it. He pulls it out and props it open, just looking at it for a moment or two.

Then he takes the ring and walks over toward the tray, thinking about where he should place it. He liked the idea of putting it in champagne, or well tea in this case, but he's a bit worried Louis might just swallow it down and choke on it in his morning haze.

So, not the tea it is and not any of the food either, just to make sure the morning doesn't end in the hospital with a colonoscopy.

In the end he decides to simply place the box onto the tray between the pancakes and the fruit and come up with something as he goes, because stressing out about it right now won't make it any better, but he's determined to do it, so just fuck it. Fuck it, _let's go_.

Harry lets the tray be on the floor beside the bed and crawls back onto the mattress and underneath the sheets, pressing his cold toes to Louis' warm legs. Louis makes a soft sound in his sleep and stirs a bit, curling closer towards Harry.

“Hey love,” Harry murmurs, pressing his mouth to Louis' ear softly. “Wakey, wakey,” he says in a moment of mental derangement and hopes that Louis isn't awake enough yet to notice the light tremor in his voice.

Louis only grumbles inaudible grunts back, pressing closer towards Harry's chest. Harry pulls him in and presses a soft kiss to the top of Louis' head.

“I made breakfast,” Harry says softly, trying to lure Louis into the world of the awake and living.

“Gnagh,” Louis grunts, tilting his head up to face Harry. “'m not going anywhere,” he grumbles, blinking his eyes slowly.

“Good thing it's breakfast in bed,” Harry says then lightly, pressing his lips softly against Louis'.

“Seriously?” Louis mumbles back, the tiniest bit more awake, but still clinging to Harry sleepily, emphasizing that he will under no circumstances leave this bed. “Where is it?” he mumbles, petting down the blanket around him.

“Liar,” he accuses with no force when his hands only land on the soft material of the blanket. “You and your tricks to lure me out of bed, Styles. Seriously.”

Harry laughs as Louis grumbles and goes to turn around again to fall back asleep. He bends down the bed to pick up the tray and set it down onto Louis' thighs carefully.

“There,” Harry says proudly, having difficulty to look away from the ring sitting between the food, to watch Louis snuffle and turn around again instead. The tray shifts as Louis moves but Harry still holds onto it, balancing it.

Louis reaches down to the weight on his legs and presses his fingers into the plate with the pancakes, getting syrup all over his fingers. He brings the hand up to his mouth and licks the syrup off, making a pleased sound.

“You did make breakfast,” he notes, lighting up.

“Said so, didn't I?” Harry asks proudly, holding onto the tray again when Louis shifts some more to sit up next to Harry.

“Any special occasion?” Louis asks casually as he gropes around some more, finds his tea and takes it.

“Actually, yes,” Harry says after a moment and Louis stops mid sip, looking up at Harry expectantly, then down again at his tea. He moves the cup around carefully so it won't slosh over, but looking for something in there definitely. He does it again after a moment and then looks back up at Harry, giving him a timid eyebrow raise.

“You can drink your tea,” Harry says with a nervously laugh, suddenly glad that he didn't put the ring in there.

Harry wants Louis to find the ring on his own, but it makes the entire breakfast a very tense deal. Louis seems unsure of Harry's silence, but Harry can't bring himself to make small talk right now, his eyes fixed on the box with the ring and Louis' hand roaming over the tray.

Louis eats the pancakes first, feeding bits of it to Harry, the both of them laughing nervously when they make a mess with the syrup. Next up is the bacon and Harry feels like his nerves are on fire by the time all the bacon is eaten, but he's almost certain Louis is going to reach for the fruit next and make Harry sit through another couple minutes of horrible tense waiting.

When Louis doesn't go for the fruit, but instead finds the box with ring next, Harry is so taken by surprise he suddenly wishes Louis had gone for the fruit instead. He's not ready, he doesn't know what to say, but Louis is holding the box with careful fingers, not yet opening it.

“I think you have to say something, Haz,” Louis stage whispers with a low chuckle and Harry rolls his eyes at him.

“Seriously,” he mutters, taking the box from Louis' hand and intertwining their fingers instead.

“Louis,” he starts, looking at the boy in front of him and clearing his mind for a moment, only thinking about Louis. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me. I wouldn't be the person that I am today, if it weren't for you. You bring out the best in me and I like to think that I helped you find some of the best in you.

“I love you so much, especially Mondays. I want to wake up next to you every Monday for the rest of my life. And all the other days, too, obviously, just.. Mondays extra special,” he adds with a smile and Louis is grinning back to him like the sun high in the sky.

“I just.. I don't even know what to say, I just love you so much and I don't ever see me not being with you and I hope that, well that you feel the same way and I'm not going to get down on one knee, because that'll just spill tea and more syrup over both of us, but..” he trails off, popping the ring box open audibly and reaching out for Louis hand, to let his index finger run over the ring.

“Louis William Tomlinson, will you marry me?” he says, slowly loud and steady like he practiced a least a million times in front of the mirror.

“Yes,” Louis squeals, flinging himself at Harry, his arms around Harry's neck and the tray goes toppling over, tea and syrup everywhere, but fuck it, Harry thinks. _Fuck it_ , one last time.

“Steady, love,” Harry says, surprised when his own voice comes out watery and chocked up, like Louis' who is sobbing against Harry's neck right now.

“Come here,” Harry laughs, pulling Louis back a little to get the hand he's still holing the ring in between their bodies and the ring onto Louis' finger.

“Lemme see, first,” Louis demands when he realizes what Harry is trying to do, carefully taking the ring from Harry's fingers to feel along all the sides again.

“But you-” Harry starts, but Louis hushes him right away.

“No, I didn't. I forgot it all again. Never seen this ring before!” Louis insists then and Harry laughs. He can't help himself but reaches out to cup Louis' face into his palms, kissing him soft and slow for a long moment.

“I love you so much,” Louis sighs into Harry's mouth, trying to press their bodies even closer.

“You too, baby,” Harry ensures, pulling Louis in.

They sit closely for a moment, Louis still feeling along the ring, running his finger over and over again over the braille engraving on the inside.

“Did they get it right?” Harry asks lowly, kissing along the shell of Louis' ear.

“Yeah, they did,” Louis laughs, holding the ring out to Harry and his hand right next to it. “Put it on, will you?”

Harry takes the ring from Louis fingers and slides it onto the ring finger carefully, twisting it into the right position. He intertwines their fingers after, giving the ring sitting around Louis' finger a long look.

“What color is it?” Louis asks, leaning closer and fitting his head against Harry's chest, right underneath his chin.

“Silver,” Harry says. “With gold features embedded. It fits you so well, Lou. I saw it and I loved it, but on you.. it just makes me wanna marry the shit out of out.”

Louis laughs and pulls back enough to be eye to eye with Harry.

“Is that what we're telling people then?” he asks, sounding amused and maybe a little smitten.

“You can tell people whatever you want, as long as I get to keep you forever,” Harry says earnestly.

“Deal,” Louis agrees and presses his lips to Harry's.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Comment! Kudos! Woop!
> 
> Find my on tumblr --> hannahazza.tumblr.com


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